


The Starlight in Your Soul

by iridiumring92



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (but there's a pre-altissia scene), First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lots of Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Game, Suicidal Thoughts, depressed Ignis, past relationship, sad ending I'm sorry, sort of canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 20:38:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13597920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridiumring92/pseuds/iridiumring92
Summary: Ignis sometimes feels as if someone else is there, watching over him, with him at his lowest moments.





	The Starlight in Your Soul

**Author's Note:**

> _"Every time I stare into the sun_   
>  _Trying to find a reason to go on_   
>  _All I ever get is burned and blind_   
>  _Until the sky bleeds the pouring rain"_   
>  [\- Chris Cornell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpMfZPAc1kg)
> 
> _"My satellite, are you here tonight?"_   
>  [\- Starset](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dqxEFgKe2Go)
> 
> For Ignoct Week 2018 Day 1: "Noctis acts as Ignis's guardian angel post-game."

Some days, the faint pulse of dawn and the warmth of light against his skin was more than he could take.

The light should have been a relief, a reprieve from the darkness he’d lived in for so long. But even two years after the sun returned, each dawn was still just a reminder that he’d lost Noctis. That Noctis had given himself up for this.

It hurt like hell.

He’d wound up seeking solitude. Some days that meant finding the remotest places and remaining still there for hours, while other days, it meant never getting out of bed, lying in the patches of sunlight that fell across the sheets and shifting between sleep and memories. This morning, he’d tried multiple times to drag himself out of bed and hadn’t succeeded. He expected to field a phone call from Gladio or Prompto sometime this afternoon, asking where he was.

For now, he lay on his back, blinking up at what should have been the ceiling, outlined in stretches of the sun’s warm glow, but what to him was mostly darkness, and a vague sense of light beyond. Slowly, he let his eyes slide shut.

In the middle of the night he’d woken up from another dream about Noctis. _Noctis_ , whom he’d been bereft of for ten whole years, with whom he’d been reunited for a mere night before he’d lost him again. After that night he’d missed Noctis even more, something he hadn’t thought possible. His body ached with the loss.

He always woke with tears on his cheeks, his blood singing and his bones aching, craving Noctis’s warmth, and the terrible, stinging feeling that none of it was _real._ He wished he could hold Noctis in his arms, whisper to him, feel his soft dark hair under his fingertips. But he knew he couldn’t. He always knew. He’d had his chance, and he’d taken it, and now it was over.

That night still rang like an echo in Ignis’s memory. A night in Altissia, before the horror of the rite the next morning, before the four of them could even fathom where their path would take them. The sun had descended below the horizon, and the four of them had shut the lights off in their room, but rather than sleep, Noctis had sought him out. Crept to the edge of the sofa where Ignis lay on his side and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He’d said nothing, but woven his fingers between Ignis’s and led him outside, into the city’s vibrant night. They didn’t stop walking until they had reached a secluded area, an empty path faintly lit by streetlamps.

Ignis took a deep breath, drawing in Altissia’s slightly salt-tinged sea air, and looked at Noctis, who stood before him, illuminated by the soft lights in the darkness. He couldn’t quite believe Noctis, his _prince,_ had brought him out here to what seemed like such a romantic evening, but then, his heart was racing and even Noct’s cheeks looked flushed.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Noctis said. He leaned back slightly, his shoulders pressing against the wall behind him. A small smile pulled at his lips.

Ignis tried to push back the urge to brush a finger against Noct’s lips, to lean in and press his mouth softly to Noct’s. “You have,” he said, and though he’d meant it as a question, it didn’t come out quite like one. He’d known. He’d felt that new energy when Noctis was around him, something barely suppressed, a need that Ignis felt that it was necessary he attend to. But, of course, there was the issue of the others, and of propriety. Later he’d learn that many other forces endeavored to keep them apart, but before Altissia, they might as well not have existed.

“Yep.” Noctis reached out and tugged at the edge of Ignis’s jacket, pulling him a little closer. “I’ve been thinking, and—and I—” He looked down at his boots, his hand slipping from the fabric of Ignis’s jacket. He ran his other hand through his hair. “I’m missing something,” he said quietly. “And I thought maybe you could help me.”

In that moment, Ignis made a snap decision, something that he considered a great risk but moved forward with anyway. He leaned in close, his body pressing Noct’s against the wall, and whispered to him. His lips hovered just over Noctis’s skin.

“I feel the same way,” he said, voice pitched low. It was a confession, a question, a promise.

“Then come here,” Noctis answered, hands gripping the edges of his jacket again, and Ignis kissed him.

 He’d thought about it before—about where they might be and how it might feel—but somehow he’d never expected it to feel like _this_. Noctis kissed back, his lips warm, accepting, responding. He seemed to want to touch every inch of Ignis, his hands sliding up Ignis’s chest, then dipping back down to slip fingertips under his belt. Ignis’s fingers threaded through Noct’s hair. He tugged at the strands, drawing a soft moan from Noctis. They pressed even closer, so that there was no space between them, and with each heartbeat that passed their kisses became more and more desperate, the pent-up needs and affections of all the last several years.

“I wish I could have you,” Noctis breathed, his hands threaded around Ignis’s neck, his cheek brushing Ignis’s. When Ignis pulled back to look at him, he saw that there were tears brimming in Noct’s eyes, ones he refused to let fall. His face was drawn with sadness and longing. _I wish I could have you, too,_ Ignis thought, but speaking it aloud was too much.

“What can I do, Noct?” he whispered.

Noctis hesitated a moment before responding. “Just . . . kiss me,” he said at last, one of his hands curling in Ignis’s shirt, his mouth grazing Ignis’s neck. A moment later Ignis’s mouth was against his. Noctis’s tongue darted out experimentally, and Ignis had to hold back a gasp.

“I-I know we can’t go back to the room,” Noctis said finally, when they broke apart long enough to speak, “but—maybe we could find somewhere else . . .”

Ignis was shaking his head before Noctis even finished his sentence. “No,” he said. “Not that. I know it’s just for tonight, and I can’t . . .”

 _I can’t let myself have all of you,_ he wanted to say. _If I do,_ _I’ll never go back. I’ll never let go._

“It doesn’t _have_ to be just for tonight—”

“Yes, it does,” Ignis said, his voice barely a whisper. “Noct, I’m sorry, but this can’t continue. You are—”

“I _know_ what I am—”

“I can’t ever be right for you—”

“ _Ignis_ ,” Noctis said at last, his tone desperate, fingers digging under Ignis’s belt to tug him closer. “One step at a time.” He leaned in to kiss Ignis’s cheek. “I don’t want to worry about tomorrow.”

After a long moment, Ignis sighed. “Nor do I,” he whispered, and moved closer to Noctis again.

He’d tried to forget how the day after had changed everything. How he’d given himself up to protect Noctis and ended up losing not his life but his sight, and how the many weeks had changed the atmosphere between them. They’d become more distant from one another, Ignis more secretive and Noctis depressed, and eventually the gods had taken Noctis from him altogether.

Some days, he wished he’d died.

The others would tell him not to think that way. But in the privacy of his own mind, Ignis felt that losing Noctis was worse than death. That holding his prince’s—his _king’s_ —cold hand in the throne room, clammy skin wet with blood, was the worst thing he’d experienced in all his life. He’d thought he might crumble to ash as he sobbed openly on the throne room floor, the others beside him. A week later, they’d had to keep him from turning his own weapons on himself.

Ever since then, he remembered, resting a hand under his head, he’d felt as if someone else were there, watching him, with him at his lowest moments. Sometimes he’d wake to reach across the sheets, expecting to find Noctis there even though they’d never slept together. When he was with the others, he felt as if Noctis were with them, too, and he thought he’d felt a hand on his shoulder or waist more than a few times. He hadn’t said a word about it, of course. He guessed he was imagining all of it.

But even if he was, sometimes he pretended his prince could hear him, and spoke aloud. The others would think he was crazy, he knew, but still, it could ease the raging pain in his heart.

“Noct,” he whispered, turning his face toward the light from the window, _if you can hear me—_ “I love you.”

He received no answer, and he closed his eyes, resigning himself to sleep again.

 

* * *

 

Noctis, sitting cross-legged on the sheets beside him, mouthed the words _I love you, too._

He wanted to reach out and run his hand through Ignis’s hair, to trace a finger across his shoulder, but he knew that Ignis would be able to feel his touch, although he would never know that Noctis was there. He’d seen Ignis react to him before, even though his presence was ethereal and shouldn’t have been able to affect anything. Noctis knew the touch would confuse him, maybe convince him that he was dreaming or hallucinating.

The only thing he could do now was thank the gods that he could see Ignis at all. He only had so much time until the last fragments of his body vanished, and he’d said his goodbyes a long time ago.

 _I’ll watch over you,_ Noctis said, though his voice had no sound. _As long as I can._

As his lips formed the words, he felt icy tears slide down his cheeks, disappearing in a hundred tiny crystals as they hit the sheets, like drops of starlight.


End file.
